


Main Street Coffee

by Good_bi_Dean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Beta Wanted, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Miracles, Coffee Shops, Comfort, Comforting Dean Winchester, Flirting, Fluff, Holiday Sweaters, Holidays, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Good_bi_Dean/pseuds/Good_bi_Dean
Summary: This is not finished... I didnt mean to post it i just meant to save it and idk how to make it go invisible again until it's done.I dont have a beta reader if anybody is interested... (not just this work but others as well)•••••This is a pretty light holiday coffee shop. Just figured I'd give it a try for some nice soft fluff to read over the holidays.This is more or less cannon divergent in than anything. It can take place any season and definitly not meant to be taken too seriously. The main divergence is that Sam and Dean have never met Cas.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Main Street Coffee

(In progress)

Christmas was over. Sam and Dean had, for the first time in a long time, enjoyed a quiet night at their motel and even exchanged a few gifts.

Dean had given Sam some books he'd been wanting and some computer accessories that he (Dean) didn't know much about. Man that kid loved research.

Sam had given Dean some beef jerky and a few copies of Busty Asian beauties, as per their long running tradition; along with a few other more serious gifts.

Everything was going well, and then Sam realized that Dean was keeping secrets again.

"I'm not mad," Sam insisted. "If anything I'm hurt that you still don't trust me."

Dean tried to speak a few times but nothing wanted to come out so Sam affected a look of hurt that Dean couldn't come up with any way to reassure him that he was was wrong about the trust thing.

"I gotta get some air," Sam said as he suited up and went out into the cold night air. Dean heard baby roll away and thought, "Son of a bitch... he took my car?"

But Dean wasnt angry, just a little sad. He didnt want to be fighting with Sammy. He didnt want to be keeping secrets. And he sure as hell didnt want to not trust his baby brother. He just...

Dean grabbed a beer. No chick flick moments. He'll get over it and he'll be back in a half hour tops. Dean started flicking through the copies of skin mags hed been gifted.

Dean felt... oddly discontent. For some reason busty... and these girls where sure busty- Asian beauties where not cheering him up. He didnt really even feel a stirring or a need to keep on hand free. He just flipped through the pages like he was going through the motions... Dean guessed that he was, but he didnt want to think about it too deeply.

Dean flicked on the tv and saw a cowboy movie that had come out in 2005. It seemed familiar, but Dean's memory seemed to be full of holes lately. Maybe it was all the beer. He grabbed a few more beers and drank til he passed out with the movie still going...

From his drunken light slumber he heard the tv intone, "You know friend, this is a goddam bitch of an unsatisfactory situation," and he muttered a grunt of an uh-hu as he repositioned himself on tbe couch.

◇

Dean woke in the morning with the light coming through the think motel curtains. He sat up glanced at his phone and then checked it again.

He had a text message from Sammy.

Dean: I got a lead on something. It's a milk run but if I hit trouble I'll call bobby. I need some space to think right now. I'm already across the state line. Sorry about your car, but I know you'll make do.

Damnit. Dean hated it when him and Sammy where on the outs. Especially if he didnt have the upper hand in some way. And he certainly didnt this time. The only thing he knew was that, Sam, if he didnt get himself killed, would definitly be back, cuz he had Baby and for all his faults, Sam would never take Baby on a permanent basis.

He was kinda suprised Sam took baby at all. Dean could hotwire something, of course, but he had the feeling Sammy was hoping he'd just stay put. Sit and stew and maybe "think about what he had done."

No since in commitimg grand theft auto at this point, as Dean had nowhere in particular to go and one roach motel was just as good as the next. Still he coukdnt just stay cooped up, so he suited up and tossed on a warm coat and headed out to walk through this backroads town's mainstreet district.

The mainstreet district was... one street. It was called "Main Street." It was cold but sunny and a light snowfall drifted to the ground and dusted Dean's shoulders. He could feel his ear turn cold, the one hed managed to leave sticking out of the warm beany jedi grabbed on his way out the door. Dean didnt bother to adjust it. Let his ear be cold. Who really cared?

Dean would see all the way down main street, there were 3 street lights in front of him and two more behind him. No traffic at all. It was picturesque like a holiday scene from a movie or a painting or something.

The town was pretty much deserted. Shop after shop displayed the "Closed" sign. Almost all were the 'red cursive on a white background standard hanging on a rope, flip me over when it's time to open up' sign hanging in the front window.

None of em looked like they were about to be flipped over any time soon.

"Is anything in this damn town opened?" Dean grumbled into his collar. He felt like an cliche of a grumpy old man. I'm not old, he told himself. Just... grumpy, he conceded.

Up ahead, through the gossamer haze of falling snow, he sees the glow of a red "open" sign. Dean stares at the neon sign and walks straight to it, not knowing or caring what kind of store or shop it even is.

Finally he gets to the door and reads the press on letters of the glass, "Main Street Coffee." Well at least he can get something warm to drink.

Dean pushes the door open and hears the tinkle of the bell and for some reason it reminds him of that Christmas movie. "Wonderful Life my ass," Dean Grumbles as he wipes his boots on the floor mat inside the door.

The place envelops him with warmth and coziness, a feeling Dean is not really used to. The aroma of fresh coffee beans, brewed coffee, chocolate, vanilla, caramel and fruity flavors waft around him. A small round table seems to jump into his eyeline. It's directly in front of a real working fireplace and also right near th counter, which seems, at the moment, to be abandoned.

Dean decides that he doesn't mind the ghost town feeling of a completly empty coffee shop with an inviting fireplace. He clears his throat and says, "well all right," as he makes himself comfortable at the table in front of the blazing fire.

Dean exhales and just allows his body to relax, of not all the way, just slightly, allowing the heat to warm him. Still, ever vigilant he looks around wondering if hes somehow stumbled into a haunted coffee shop or what. He doesnt really feel in tbe mood for ghost busting, he just wanted to get out of his head and not think about Sammy's temper tantrum or his baby brother taking off with his.. Baby.

Before long, a jolly looking fellow came out of the backroom, whistling a christmas tune. He was carrying a big bag of coffee beans and an armful of whipped topping. "Merry Christmas, sir. I'll be right with you, the man, who was wearing a tan trenchcoat, chirped.

Dean cant help but correct him, "Christmas is over," the grumpy hunter grumbles.

"Ah yes, right. Happy Hollidays!" The man's cheerfulness does not diminish as he busies himself stocking the items in his arms.

Dean stretched his feel out to feel the warmth of the fire. The logs and twigs crackled cheerfully. Dean was starting to think the whole joy to the world vibe of this place was going to make him sick. What was he thinking leaving the hotel room anyway?

The man, who was fairly tall but not as tall as Dean, finished what he was doing and approached the table dean had claimed. He produced a small pad from one pocket and a pen from the other. "What can I get for you today?" 

The man had... if Dean were to be honest... a very cute smile and clear blue sparkling eyes. His trench coat was open and dean could see the gaudy christmas sweater he wore, featuring a Christmas angel with golden wings out stretched. Dean, ever the religious skeptic scoffed and looked at the menu on the table.

"I sure dont need any of this fancy crap," he said gesturing to the specialy coffee list. Just give me a large coffee black."

"Very well, sir." The barista put his pad and pen balc into his coat pockets. "By the way my name is Castiel. Be sure to let me know if there is anything else I can do for you." Something about the softness in his voice and the look in his eye suggested... something that Dean chose to ignore.

"That's enough of this, sir this this and sir that. Names Dean."

"Nice to meet you Dean, feel free to read a paper or a magazine while you wait. I'll be right back with your coffee."

Dean picked up a newspaper, wondering if he would catch wind of a case. Instead, he found himslef looking at a publication called "Good News!" that only featured positive and inspirational stories about the goings on in town.

"That's weird... the hunter mumbled. But not MY kimda weird."

"What's your kind of weird, Dean?" The barista seemed to rather suddenly appear before him with a steaming hot cup of coffee in hand.

"Ahhh you know, vampires, werewolves, vengeful spirits," the hunter groused, trying to sound sarcastic.

"Ahh, I see. So you're into gothic horror novels?"

"Not exactly." Dean let the uncomfortable silence hang between them. Castiel just looked st him until Dean was the one feeling discomfited.

"So.. ah... Castiel, is it? How'd you draw the short straw to work the Holliday shift?"

"Oh I volunteered. I like to bring people a little hapiness at this time of the year, if I can."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, well... I dont see too many people in hear for you to spread your merriment on."

Castiels voice was so gentle and yet firm. "You're here Dean."

Before Dean could answer, the barista had flown off to another area of the store, doing god knows what.

Dean tried to get comfortable and drink his coffee. It's hot liquid slid down hai throat and spread its warmth throughout his body. Surprisingly he felt quite calmed... he wondered if the coffee had been drugged and he tried to be pissed about it but he couldn't. He hoped that Castiel was not a monster or a demon, because he seemed to have disarmed Dean and the Hunter felt like there was nothing he could do to combat it.

In fact, even thinking the word combat felt wrong. Dean felt... really peaceful. He didn't feel exactly defenseless but without his usual sense of hypervigilance, he wasnt sure how he couod possibly be safe withiut remaining on guard. Even so, he couldn't fight it.

Castiel fluttered back, yes he really did seem to... uh.. swish across the room. He set down a plate in front of dean. "On the house." It was a warm slice of cherry pie with a scoop of vanilla icecream melting on top. Who could say no to that.

Uh- thanks..." Dean stuttered. Would you like to, uh... sit with me?"

"Dont mind if I do," Castiel said as he took a seat. "I'm not one to complain but being on your feet all the time, it can wear on you. It's nice to put your feet up once in a while."

"Mhm" dean mumbled into his coffee.

Castiel did not seem threatening. Dean felt something he was not used to feeling. He felt at ease. He didn't exactly trust it, but he couodnt fight it. So he gave in.

"You know Dean, this coffee shop is a safe place. I made it myself to be comfy, cozy, warm, relaxing and safe. A place where a person can just be. Do you like it?"

"I've never heard of a place like that," Dean groused, but softly. Home was supposed to be safe, but it was where his mother had been murdered.

"You know Dean, good things do happen."

"Not in my experience."

"Well something good happend to me today, I met you."

Dean noticed that Castiel, with his mussed up dark hair and glittery mischievous eyes, was taking a long appreciative look at him. Was the barista... checking him out?

Not that Dean minded, but usually it was Dean who was hitting on the wait staff, not the other way around. Castiel seemed to take in Dean's appearance, but maybe a little more... he felt seen in a different way. But not intruded upon.


End file.
